Dawning
by Ariyah
Summary: Alone in the dark with his thoughts, questions plague Jewel. What if Aslan... was not Aslan? One-shot. By Ariel of Narnia.


**Disclaimer:** I don't even own the rope, so don't look at me.

**Thanks to:** the friends at The Lion's Call who kindly read this over for me.

_"The light is dawning, the lie broken." ~ Tirian, "Mainly About Dwarfs", The Last Battle_

* * *

In the near-silence of solitary confinement, Jewel tugged at the short rope that bound his bridle to a ring on the sad shack of a stable. He tried to shift his weight, but his four legs had been hobbled a little too tightly to be comfortable in any semblance of position. For at least half of the day, judging by the sojourn of the sun, the Unicorn had borne the agony of separation from his dearest friend, the ache of being just out of the reach of any sympathizers, and the aggravation of remaining within the sound of those who disheartened his people with lies.

Quiet descended on the woods before the sun had quite begun to sink in the west. No birds sang, no neighbourly "good evenings" were uttered. Even the voices of falsehood were gone. Jewel was quite alone.

How differently the day had begun, brimming with hope and joy! News of Aslan's return to Narnia could not have been surpassed by news of any other kind… though it could be – and had been – cruelly trampled and dashed, for the Centaur Roonwit had warned of ill tidings and several had whispered that the Great Lion had returned in a rage. Jewel wished –not for the first time – that he was dead and happily so. He wondered at Tirian's whereabouts, hardly daring to hope. After all, Aslan wasn't a _tame_ Lion.

The shadows lengthened, creeping at a pace so maddening, a snail would have seemed speedy. The day's warmth faded little by little, but almost as soon as the sun had hidden himself behind the western mountains, the coolness of night rushed in as if it was an army springing forth from an ambush. Jewel shivered.

Cold. Perhaps all he'd ever believed was wrong. Or perhaps something had changed, something to have generated such ire against Narnia. None of the stories Jewel could summon to memory told of a wrathful Aslan. And such a wrath! He'd not heard quite all that the Ape and the Calormenes had said, but he had heard enough to piece some of their tale together: the Lion's regret for having been so merciful in the past, His chosen punishment of sending them as slaves to Calormen, and –

Darkness. The night was black, oh so black. Jewel looked up in search of the moon, but she was veiled by clouds so dark, it was no stretch to imagine her as a widow in mourning. He shifted what little he could in his bonds.

Could the night be any darker? Oh, that death had claimed him the night before this despair could grip his heart.

Jewel lowered his head as far as his tether allowed and let it support the weight of his weary head. He was not long like this – though it certainly felt long to him – until something made him prick up his ears: feet quietly climbing up the hill on the other side of the stable, voices murmuring to each other, wood clattering against wood. He strained to hear what was being spoken, but instead picked up the sounds of steel on flint, of more wood being applied, and, presently, of timber crackling. The firelight's glow penetrated the darkness beyond the stable, but it held no warmth for him. Miserably, Jewel wondered if the blaze fed off a Talking Tree or a dryad's tree. He shivered again, this time in memory of the dryad who had suddenly perished before his eyes just that morning.

Could it be that Aslan would not say why He was angry with them?

He heard the voice of the Ape calling out to what Jewel assumed was an assembly like the one he'd seen before his confinement to the hind side of the stable. The Calormene captain also spoke, but only in answer to the Ape.

Could it be that Aslan had betrayed them all?

The assembly was quiet, but Jewel sensed that it was not the quiet of attentiveness, but that of anticipation, a deep-seated dread, an expectation of the worst. For a moment, there was no sound besides the menacing snap of the bonfire, but then he heard the stable door suddenly open. Then slow, grave footfalls as something emerged from within. Jewel wished he knew what it was, but the answer soon was given, for the assembly cried out in a collective wail, "Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Speak to us. Comfort us. Be angry with us no more. Aslan!"

Jewel's heart gave a great leap. Aslan here to address his people? Aslan here to speak for Himself? Aslan here for all to see? And Jewel unable to see Him with his own eyes! He strained against his halter as if he could free himself by sheer will.

Could it be that this was his punishment?

But something else was happening. The din subsided almost, but not quite, completely. Jewel strained to hear Aslan speak, hardly realizing that he tensed his neck and clenched his jaws dreadfully. For a moment, there was nothing but the distant roar of the fire and the remaining rippling whispers of anxiety. Then the assembly cried out again, more desperate, more passionate, more grieved.

Could it be that Aslan had abandoned them?

The bonfire was put out, plunging Jewel into utter darkness again, alone with the crying in the wind that was not there, with the echoes of despair in the dead-still woods. Alone with his own anguished thoughts.

Could it be that Narnia was dead?

Jewel leaned the tip of his horn against the wall of the stable. His tether fell limp, wearied from having been stretched so taut. And yet Jewel felt no empathy for it. His spirits could not possibly be sunk any lower. If he had been able to, he would have physically followed them. Straight down to Bism, if need be.

_Aslan, why?_

He was just on the other side of the wall before him. Why shouldn't he try to talk to the Lion? Ask Him why these terrible things had come to pass. Why He would not speak to them Himself. Why He brought them low like this.

_How, Aslan?_

How they erred to so incur such a terrible retribution. How they could return to His favour. How they could come back to life.

Jewel sighed. A great, heaving sigh that emptied him of breath, though it seemed also to empty him of life – oh, that he'd died before this! Who was he to question Aslan? He was not a tame Lion. But if that was the case…. Thoughts flooded his mind and mingled and wove themselves together so he could hardly tell them apart.

_Who are you, Aslan?_

There it was. The question that summed up the rest. The one he wanted answered most of all. Everything Jewel had ever known about Aslan – beautiful, terrible, merciful, just, patient, the King over all high kings – collided with the developments of the day – demanding, distant, unforgiving, relentless, one with Tash –

Jewel sighed. He did not want to believe it. He could not. The Ape and the Calormenes spoke only lies…. Unless they were actually in the right. What if they were? What if Narnia had been so blind to it that it took all this to waken them? What if Aslan… was not Aslan?

He lifted his head, keeping his eyes closed, as if to accept surrender to the blade of an executioner. As he did so, however, he noticed something. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the sky.

There, free from her black veils of grief, hung the moon. She was no less cold, but she cast her light down upon the Unicorn. And all around her shone the stars, many so small and distant that Jewel could only see them if he focused his gaze upon them for a while, but once he did, they seemed nearer and brighter.

He stamped one of his hind hooves as well as he could. He could not – would not – believe the Ape. Aslan was Aslan and He did not change. No, He would come as He always had. How had that ancient prophesy read? "_Wrong will be right when Aslan comes in sight_"? Surely it was still true. Dawn eventually crept into the sky, bringing with it a growing hope. The dew weighed heavy on his coat, but it could not dampen his spirits. A slight breath of wind blew a faint trace of a whisper to his ears.

Facing the east, Jewel summoned up a great breath and called out in full confidence, "Aslan! Aslan! Aslan! Come and save us now!"

The clouds blushed and the first rays of dawn repelled the night. Aslan was Aslan. Jewel had reason to live again.

* * *

_Light, light, light up the sky,  
You light up the sky to show me  
You are with me.  
I, I, I can't deny,  
no, I can't deny that You are  
right here with me.  
You've opened my eyes  
so I can see You all around me.  
Light, light, light up the sky,  
You light up the sky to show me  
that You are with me.  
_~ "Light Up the Sky", The Afters

_There's hope in front of me.  
There's a light, I still see it.  
There's a Hand still holding me  
even when I don't believe it.  
I might be down, but I'm not dead.  
There's better days still up ahead.  
Even after all I've seen,  
there's hope in front of me._  
~ "Hope in Front of Me", Danny Gokey

* * *

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